To Find A Friend
by hollyhobbit101
Summary: Viktor had not expected to make friends during the Triwizard Tournament. That he made friends with one Fleur Delacour was the biggest surprise of them all.


**For the Houses Competition. This is meant to be platonic, but I guess if you want you can read it as romantic?**

**House: Ravenclaw**

**Subject: Charms**

**Category: Standard**

**Prompt: Viktor Krum/Fleur Delacour **

**Word count: 1078**

* * *

Viktor had not intended to make friends during the Tournament. Nor did he wish to make enemies, of course, but he had no interest in getting to know those stuck-up English, or the air-headed French. He was there to win, and bring glory to his school, and that was the end of it.

And yet, he found himself coming to like them all the same. Diggory and Potter were his competitors, and he saw them as such - he could not afford to let personal feelings get in the way of the Tournament - but he was surprised by their honesty and their warmth. He liked Potter's friends, too, especially the lovely Hermione, in ways he had not even imagined he could feel.

Of all of them, though, it was Fleur Delacour who was the biggest surprise.

At first, she had seemed like another pampered princess, with her nose too high in the air to see those of them living on the ground. He did not outright dislike her - he found her outspoken, blunt ways somewhat amusing, in fact - but she did not seem to be worth getting to know at all. In any case, Viktor already had enough girls following him around everywhere he went to bother about Fleur.

He did not even speak to her until after the first task. He'd seen from her face that she had known just as well as he did what the task would present, meaning she wasn't entirely air-headed; she at least had the brains to know how to use her sources. And, though he hadn't watched her battle the dragon, he could tell that she had to be brave. No coward faced a dragon with just a wand, after all.

He approached her, once they were done and the crowds were dispersing. She was sitting inside the champions' tent, still wearing her burnt skirt, staring blankly at the golden egg in her hands.

"Congratulations," he muttered, hovering in the entryway to the tent. "I heard zat you performed well."

Fleur scoffed, turning to face him slowly. Her eyes were suspiciously red-rimmed, but there was a sort of steel in them that took Viktor aback. "Yes," she said bitterly. "_La petite fille _fought the easiest dragon and did not die. She did the best zat she could; she is in last place, but she is only a little girl, no? It is to be expected. Is zat what you 'ave 'eard?"

Viktor pursed his lips and shook his head, turning away from the girl. He had been trying to be genuine; she did not need to snap at him like that. Although… In truth, Viktor had not heard anything about Fleur's performance beside the odd joke about her catching on fire. Most were talking about Potter's trick with the broom. Which had been impressive, no doubt, but perhaps Viktor could understand Fleur's reaction a little better now.

* * *

He tried to offer her a 'good luck' before the second task, but he was met with stony silence. He did not let it affect him overmuch; they were both here to win, after all. Even so, he could not help feeling a pang of sympathy and regret when, yet again, she came last, and, yet again, all anyone was talking about was Harry Potter.

Viktor didn't seek her out this time, but he ended up spotting her all the same. She had forced both towels upon her younger sister, despite the fact that she was still soaking wet and shivering. Viktor approached them and held out his cloak for her, as he himself had dried off a long time ago, but she just glared at him.

He refused to let himself be deterred this time, though. "Please. Zis English weather is not so good. I am used to it, but I think perhaps you are not?" Viktor smiled, hoping she would not take his words for insult.

Fleur stared at him for a moment longer, then reluctantly took his cloak, wrapping it around her thin shoulders. "Thank you," she murmured, then made to leave.

"Vait," Viktor called. "I hope I did not offend you, after ze first task. I truly meant vat I said."

She smiled then, though it was a weak, wan thing. "Per'aps it is I who should apologise. You were only being kind, yet I threw it back in your face, as these English say." She shook her head. "I do not deserve to be in this competition. I 'ave performed terribly."

Viktor shrugged. "I zink you have done better than any of these cowards who laugh behind your back."

Her smile was brighter this time, more genuine. "Thank you." She reached up and pulled Viktor's cloak from her shoulders. "Your cloak, _monsieur._"

She gave him one last smile before walking away, arm wrapped around her little sister. Viktor watched her go, glad that he could help her, if only for a little while.

* * *

Viktor did not remember the third task. He was only told later that he had been cursed, and almost killed Diggory in the maze. He felt sick at the thought, and worse when he remembered that he had died anyway. He could not stop thinking about the moment the task had ended, when everyone realised that only Potter had come back alive. The Triwizard Tournament was supposed to be a game. No one was supposed to die.

Of course, Viktor had heard the horror stories of death and injury, of why the Tournament had been discontinued in the first place. But hearing is a far cry from seeing, and if Potter's tale was true… Well, Viktor supposed that the Tournament had never been a game at all.

A few hours later, he was sitting alone on the benches, gaze fixed on the spot where Diggory's body had appeared. He could still see it in his mind's eyes - pale, bruised, lifeless. It had been the first time Viktor had seen death so close, but he thought that perhaps it would not be the last.

Viktor did not know how long he had been sitting there when soft footsteps approached, and someone eased themselves down to sit beside him. He glanced over, and saw Fleur looking back at him, eyes red, smile thin. He nodded to her in greeting, then returned to staring at the grass.

They did not speak, but, somehow, Viktor was comforted by her presence beside him. It was good, he decided, to be with friends.


End file.
